


Faded Blooms of Memory

by donutsweeper



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Gen, Memories, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 11:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: It is said that the memories of one's past helped shape their present. Sometimes Diana wondered how accurate her own memories were.





	Faded Blooms of Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samalander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalander/gifts).



_"We only know of one duty, and that is to love."_

- **Albert Camus**

—————————————————————————--

The world of man was very different than that of Themyscira. She had known it would be when she first set sail off the island and sometimes, when she was at her lowest, she thought that if she'd known just _how_ different she might have hesitated a bit more before leaving. She would have still left, of that she was certain, but she might have taken an extra moment to look around and try to sear every aspect of her home and loved ones in her mind. 

She liked to think she remembered every aspect of it: the way the smell of the salt from the sea wafted in on the morning breeze, the various flora and fauna she'd encounter when she explored while escaping her lessons, the sounds of Antiope and the other warriors as they practiced their drills and honed their skills. Memory was a complicated thing though and she wondered if perhaps hers wasn't playing tricks on her and perhaps, just perhaps, she was supplementing hers with more recent experiences and bits and pieces of the beaches of the Caribbean or the gardens of Versaille have slipped their way into her recollections.

And if she could not be certain of those memories and the years upon years she'd had to build them, what did that say of her recollections of Steve? Her time with him had been so fleeting.

Seeing the photographic plate from Veld, it sitting tangible in her hands as opposed to pixelated on a screen, made it that much more obvious. It presented his likeness, but showed nothing of who he was. Had his eyes truly sparkled in the way she remembered? What color had they truly been? Some shade of blue, of that she was certain, but which? She walked through the halls of the Louvre sometimes, trying to find the exact shade, the right hue among its many offerings. At various times she thought she found it in da Vinci, Monet, Vermeer, or van Eyck, but it was never quite right. 

What of that tone he had when he explained his world to her? The earnestness when spoke of his duty, the joy in teaching her to dance, the respect when he introduced her to his men? Was it truly there or had time affected her reminiscences? He'd told her he loved her, her recollection of that was absolute. 

And she had loved him.

She still loved him.

And when she fought, she liked to think that it was with his lessons in mind: that man was flawed but had good within him, that only love can save the day. But there was so much more to helping people then fighting. Sometimes what was needed most was a strong back, or a gentle hand, or a sympathetic ear. She could provide all of those. Heedless of the danger she would jump into the fray to help wherever and however she could. One life saved here, two there; a crisis averted one week; a criminal apprehended the next. 

She never hesitated; she had the power to help so help she did, which was why one muggy July morning found her running down an airstrip towards the remains of two small airplanes that had collided when they each had accidentally been sent to use the same runway and the resulting collision had sparked numerous fires as the jet fuel sprayed everywhere. 

"Wonder Woman, thank god," the man directing the rescue efforts called to her, obviously terribly relieved to see her. "We don't have the manpower to both contain the fire enough to prevent it from spreading to the airport and to fight it at the same time. If you could help us by creating some barriers then we would be able to direct of efforts more efficiently." 

"I shall see what I can do," she offered, spying a stack of corrugated metal sheeting a few hundred meters away piled along with other construction supplies next to a half completed hanger. They were awkward and unwieldy, but by slamming them into the ground on a bit of an angle she was able to form a berm to anchor them in place and make a wall of sorts, which would hopefully prevent the fire from spread further along the airfield.

She'd just turned to collect another panel of sheeting when there was a shout from the men on the hoses but whatever they'd yelled was obscured by the roar of the fire, which grew in intensity as a wave of flame and heat tore through her impromptu wall and smashed into her, throwing her against the wall of the hangar which collapsed, bringing the entire structure down around her. She tried to get to her feet and get away before she was trapped but a beam struck her head and in the unsteadiness that followed she lost her chance.

For a moment, everything was dark except for the glow of fire around her and she could hear nothing but the crackle of its flames. Then she thought she heard a quiet voice calling her name, but it was more of an echo than a whisper. A blurry face was in front of hers, smiling a familiar, half-forgotten smile.

"Diana." 

Everything came into focus in a rush because she _knew_ that voice. She knew that smile…. "Steve?"

No longer contained, fire roared around her, hungrily eating everything in its path. Trapped as she was under the metal sheeting and detritus from the collapsed hangar she couldn't move, not even enough to shift any of it off of her. She had minutes, if that, before the fire reached her. It was hard to breathe with the air so foul with smoke and soot. The sky blackened by it to the point that despite it being midday it was dark as pitch; but who needed the sun when there was Steve, leaning over to her? 

"Diana." The glare from the fire illuminated him, lighting from behind and making him look almost ethereal.

"Steve?"

"You can do this. I know you can."

"Can what? Do what?" 

He bent down, unimpeded by the debris and leaned over her as the wind brushed a stray hair from her face. "Save yourself. You saved the world, after that everything else should be easy." His eyes bore into her and she lost herself in them for a moment before she realized that while hers were watering from the smoke, his were clear. In fact, considering how bad the smoke was he should be having difficulty breathing, but he wasn't coughing or straining, he wasn't affected at all.

"You aren't really here, are you." It wasn't a question, she knew the answer.

"I'm always with you, Diana."

"I miss you."

"I know. I wish we'd had more time, but for now what I need you to do is get yourself free."

"Free?"

"The fire, Diana. You have to get yourself free and smother it before it reaches the storage tanks."

"I am immortal, born of Zeus himself. Fire cannot harm me."

Steve sat back on his haunches and regarded her, his face serious. "Maybe not, but an explosion that size? Think of the kind of destruction it could do."

She knew he was right, that she needed to break herself free from her impromptu restraints but doing so would mean the circumstances would change and that, most likely, meant he would leave. It was stupid, he wasn't actually there,he was just some part of her subconscious spurring her into action instead of remaining where she was, feeling trapped and helpless, but… it was _Steve_. And, damn it, he was right.

Ignoring the smoke she took a deep breath and centered herself, gathering all her strength. Actually here or not, Steve loved her. He had believed in her then, he would believe in her now. She could do this. A scream tore from her throat and she burst out from under the debris, scattering the metal sheeting and the rest of the rubble far and wide.

Working quickly, she threw the metal sheets over the fire, blocking its access to oxygen where she could. The firemen were directing their efforts at the area to her right and she realized that was where she'd spotted the fuel tanks earlier. A few steps followed by a long jump took her to over to one of the fire trucks. 

"There isn't time to erect a new barrier, but if I carry the truck into the air it will distribute the foam over a wider area and more quickly than you can manage from the ground," she explained to the men working the hose as she tugged it away from them.

"You can do that?" The raw surprise would have been comical under different circumstances.

"I can do many things," she assured them before grabbing the truck and hefting it up. By launching herself into the air she managed to get above the worst of the fire, enabling the spray to be directed to where it was needed most, directly in front of the fuel tanks. 

For a second while she was helping fight the fire, amid all the smoke and chaos, she thought she saw Steve standing on the tarmac, looking at her with a proud smile on his face, but the moment she blinked he was gone. Of course, he hadn't been there in the first place, not really, but whatever had caused her to imagine he was with her, be it the memories the photographic plate had brought up or being on an airfield or surrounded by fire… she supposed she'd never know the reason behind it, but she was glad for it all the same. 

The story of her mother told her of her of how she came to be may have been a lie, but, in a way, there had been some truth to it. She had been molded, not from clay, but rather in the way that everyone was molded, from the experiences they had in life, and her time with Steve had been a major part of that. Their time together had been so short, yet so vital to who she had become. Perhaps she did not remember the minutiae of what he looked like, but she could recall who he was and what he meant to her with exacting clarity and that what was mattered, and that was what would be with her always.


End file.
